


Take a Break

by vanessa_singer



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel
Genre: Bucky is happy, Do not underestimate the amount of fluff, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Modern AU, More Fluff, Stucky - Freeform, all of the fluff, college students, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 08:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6276811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanessa_singer/pseuds/vanessa_singer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve needs a break, and Bucky is more than happy to help him relax.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Break

Steve was tired, to say the least.

 

Final exams, argumentation reports, and speech writing had left him all but exhausted. It was no secret that he needed a break; Everyone could see it: his teachers, his friends, his Bucky.

 

His Bucky.

 

He liked the sound of that. The untold promise that lay in the simple phrase. Maybe he would see Bucky today.

 

His Bucky.

 

Steve spins in the swirly chair with a dopey grin on his face. He doesn't care how long its been. The warm feeling in his chest doesn't go away. Hopefully Bucky comes back from his job at the on-campus bakery so they can fool around in the tiny closet of a bathroom their dorm has, or on Steve's bed currently littered with pencils, paper, and paint. Maybe he'll paint Bucky for real, unlike last time where he ended up with blue splattered across his chest and Bucky thrusting into him like there was no tomorrow, his own war  paint dripping down his biceps.

 

However, he wouldn't mind a repeat of that.

 

All thoughts of greedy sex are wiped from his mind when he sees the monster of a textbook laid out before him. His heart sinks into his stomach, and he feels the familiar weight of anxiety take hold in his chest. He's usually so careful with his work, keeping them in folders and binders, marking them with tabs, organizing things into boxes and drawers. Getting it _done_.  Steve glances over the work he's reading, then the stack as high as his head next to him, and he immediately feels the weight in his chest solidify.  He not only has to get this done, but he also had to coordinate with the choir about next week's trip to the retirement home, and then ask his professor when he planned on getting the posters for the school fundraiser at the end of the month.  Not to mention the fact that he had to find people to hang _up_ the posters, there was also that boy who wouldn't stop stalking Patty and the party he promised to attend on Tuesday and...

 

Steve hates crying.

 

After all, that's the only thing he has the energy to do at this point.  Breaking down sounds like sweet bliss compared to the crap he actually has to get done.  No matter how good it feels afterwards, the salt on his lips and blur of his vision do nothing to help. And after all of the shit Bucky's gone through, with what his parents kicking them out after finding out his feelings toward boys, Steve didn't need to put that burden on him. He knows he shouldn't be crying and panicking. That's what he tells himself everytime he feels something start to break.  Stay strong.  He has to stay strong for Bucky.

 

His Bucky.

 

Blinking furiously, Steve rolls up to the desk, his chair teetering precariously before gaining its balance, and he works. He works until his fingers are numb and his head throbs and until he can't feel, only process.  He works until the sunlight casts long shadows on his physics paper, until he hears people calling out their goodnight's and shutting themselves into their rooms.  He works until his fingers are aching from being wrapped too tightly around his pencil and until Bucky comes home.

 

"Hey Dorito."  

 

No matter the circumstances, the nickname will always get Steve's attention.  That, and Bucky shirtless.

 

"Hi Buck.  How was your day?"

 

When Steve swivels around, Bucky is chucking his clothes into the hamper and stretching out sore muscles as he goes.  Lean, smooth muscles that hug his body with every breath, muscles that have girls and guys alike swooning at the gym, muscles that-

 

See?  Bucky + Shirtless = Horny Steve

 

"Whatcha looking at?"

 

Steve is too absorbed in Bucky looking like he just walked off of a sports magazine to notice that he's leaning over Steve with that smirk on his face.  Steve knows Bucky is tired, that it's late and they should study, but he can't help but wipe that smirk off his face with a tired kiss that they both quickly sink into.

 

Bucky senses the tension the minute he walks through the door, seeing Steve hunched over his desk, back straining as he furiously scribbles down notes.  It takes all of him to _not_ slam Steve up against a wall and kiss away his worries, and the moment he's shucking off his layers, he knows he's got Steve's attention.  

 

Wrapping his arms under Steve's, Bucky tugs him to his feet and steadies him as blood rushes to his legs after hours of sitting.  Steve has his hands anywhere he can touch Bucky; combing through his hair, brushing down his arms, smoothing over his knotted back.  Some how Bucky gets them to the bed, lips still wandering lazily, and Steve's falls back heavily, thumping down unceremoniously onto Bucky's mattress.

 

"Tough day?"  Bucky reaches down and smooths over Steve's wrinkled forehead, Steve nudging into the soft gesture, Bucky's wide, warm palm pressing down.

 

"More like tough week.  You?"

 

"Basically the same.  Let me take care of you?"  Bucky settles onto his waist, takes Steve's hands and flattens them against his chest, rocking down in a slow, languid rhythm.

 

"I-I think I j-just wanna..."  Steve's lips stutter as he relaxes into the sensation of Bucky grinding onto him, all previous worries drowned in the sound of Bucky's voice.  

 

"Don't think, Stevie, just feel, okay?"

 

Steve nods, running his hands down Bucky's front and back up, latching onto his shoulders and pulling himself up.

 

"No, no, Stevie, _relax_ -"

 

"It's okay, Buck, just gimme a sec, I wanna try something."

 

 _Really?_  Try something _now_ , when the man can't even stand on his own two feet on his own?  Bucky's is about to tie Steve down if that's what it takes to get him to rest, but Steve simply scoots back so he's propped up against some pillows, positioned perfectly so that he can have access to _all_ of Bucky.

 

His Bucky.

 

And that's how they spend the little time that they have, grinding and kissing and whispering.  Its only a couple of moments later when Steve can't keep up, and Bucky tucks him in and kisses him good night.

 

When Steve wakes up, all of his work has been packed away and stacked on his desk, and air of finality in the room.  Bucky lays slumped in the chair, with his mouth parted and head lolling onto the headrest.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> So this is my first post here, and I know there was a lame ending and some details thrown in, but maybe I'll expand on those in the future.
> 
> Don't be afraid to comment and let me know how I'm doing!
> 
> Thanks,  
> ~Vanessa


End file.
